


Keep a Coin Under Your Tongue

by bimmyshrug



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angry Eddie Kaspbrak, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Confused Eddie Kaspbrak, Crying Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fat Shaming, Gay Disaster Eddie Kaspbrak, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, Heartbreak, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Language, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Teenage Eddie Kaspbrak, Teenage Richie Tozier, big sad, two young boys in love who don't know how to handle their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimmyshrug/pseuds/bimmyshrug
Summary: "Have you ever touched a boob?""Depends, do your mom's count?""Richie, I’m being serious.”"Uh... no, I haven't. Haven't even kissed anyone before.""You haven’t?""No, but how shocked you sound is really boosting my ego.""Do you wanna?""Touch a boob? Yeah, at some point. Hoping I might even get to touch two of them if I play my cards right.""No I meant … I meant do you want to kiss?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	Keep a Coin Under Your Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](https://bimmyshrug.tumblr.com/)
> 
> sooooo this is sad, and i already promised my dear @blueeyedrichie on tumblr that i would write a wholesome first kiss scenario to make up for it lmfao
> 
> but here you go. enjoy. warning for richie making fat jokes about sonia, and eddie being mad, and them cussing at each other. warning for internalized and externalized homophobia too. but opposite of a warning for maggie being the GOAT

"Do you ever think about getting married?" Richie blurts out like a fucking idiot, and his palms are already so sweaty that he's afraid he might drop his controller.

He can feel Eddie shrug next to him, and he chances a quick glance to see him still focusing intently on the screen.

"Yeah. It’s hard not to; they talk about it at church all the time," Eddie grumbles. Richie swallows the spit that’s building up in the back of his throat before speaking again.

"But- So- But do you like- Do you want to get married?" Richie forces out, and Eddie gives him a confused side glance before refocusing his attention on the game they’re playing.

"I… I don’t know. I never really…. thought about it that much. Ma says it's my Christian duty and stuff, so... so I guess I have to, someday."

"But you don't _want_ to?" Richie presses again, and Eddie rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

"I don’t fucking know! What's with the third degree? I'm in middle school, I don't need to be thinking about this stuff for a long time!" Eddie screeches before shifting on the bed, and Richie panics, because he’s pretty sure Eddie is trying to get away from him.

"I didn't mean to-to be weird or anything, I was just wondering! I’m sorry!"

Eddie freezes, tearing his gaze away from the TV to look at Richie, who now has his own eyes desperately glued to the screen.

"Why are you sorry?"

"For- I guess- For making you uncomfortable? I guess?" Richie replies stupidly, and he's pissed that he doesn’t really have peripheral vision with his glasses on, because he can’t tell what Eddie's expression is based on the blurry image out of the corner of his eye.

"I just, like...I don’t know, dude. I don’t think about this stuff really, like ever. Girls are...weird," Eddie finishes softly, and the hair at the back of Richie’s neck stands up.

"Like weird how?"

"Like...I don’t know if I would ever want to marry one," Eddie says slowly, and Richie doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he huffs it out of his nose. "Do you...do _you_ want to get married someday?"

Richie actually does drop his controller this time, and he considers picking it back up, but he can't pretend he’s playing this stupid fucking game anymore, so he turns toward Eddie and starts fiddling with his hands instead, shoving his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose before speaking.

"Yeah, I do."

"How…. how do you know?" Eddie asks softly. He sounds genuinely curious, and Richie feels like there are a million tiny suns inside his veins.

"Uh- Because I kinda... already know who I want to marry. And I think about it a lot when I'm with them and stuff."

"How- How could you possibly know who you want to get married to already?" Eddie asks in an oddly hushed tone that makes Richie nervous.

"'Cos…'cos I think I have, like, forever? I donno. I don’t remember ever _not_ wanting to marry them."

Eddie shifts on the bed again, closer this time, leaning towards Richie with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"So... like... do you mean you think about kissing her and... like... _touching her_ and stuff?" Eddie whispers, and Richie almost lets out an uncomfortable laugh, but he manages to hold it in.

"Uh...Um. Yeah, sorta. That's...mostly right," he says instead. "I also think about, like, living together and having kids and stuff, and how cool that would be. To, like, you know… have, like, a family together. Or whatever."

Eddie shifts closer. "I don’t think I'll ever wanna get married, then," Eddie says, and Richie's lungs nearly collapse behind his ribs. "I've never met a girl I would wanna be with for my whole life, and have kids, and like… touch each other and stuff."

"W-Well, you never know, Eds. Like you said, plenty of time to think about it," Richie tries to dismiss this conversation casually, but his voice sounds strangled and breathless even in his own ears.

But it seems that he’s started something he really wishes he hadn't, because now Eddie is furrowing his brow and biting the inside of his cheek in that way he does when he’s thinking hard about something, and Richie really wishes he wouldn't, because he basically already got his answer and wants to just go back to playing SNES and pretend he never brought it up.

"Have you ever touched a boob?" Eddie asks suddenly, and the serious look on his face almost stops Richie from making a joke to spare himself from his own distress. Almost.

"Depends, do your mom's count?"

"Richie," Eddie whines, pouting as he drops his head to rest it atop his forearms where they're still wrapped around the tops of his knees. “I’m being serious.”

"Uh... no, I haven't. Haven't even kissed anyone before."

"You haven’t?" Eddie sounds surprised, and Richie doesn’t really get why, because Eddie is probably the first person he'd tell if he had.

"No, but how shocked you sound is really boosting my ego."

Eddie bites his cheek again for a moment, staring at Richie’s bedspread before he looks back into Richie’s eyes and scoots closer again, and Richie is sure he probably doesn’t realize he’s even doing it, but fuck if it doesn’t send him into a panic when Eddie's foot presses against his leg.

"Do you wanna?"

"Touch a boob? Yeah, at some point. Hoping I might even get to touch two of them if I play my cards right."

"No I meant … I meant do you want to kiss?”

Richie is absolutely, 100%, totally and completely sure that his heart is going to give out, or he’s going to melt, or he might just explode and leave traces of himself all over Derry as his legacy after he dies from whatever the fuck this insane, electric feeling is.

" _Yes_ , yeah, yes I do. Yes, definitely," Richie knows he’s nodding and repeating himself over and over like a fucking moron, but Jesus fucking Christ, who could fucking blame him? Fuck. "I-I for _sure_ want to kiss you," he finishes with one last nod, licking his lips before he turns more fully towards Eddie, and he’s about to reach out and pull him closer when Eddie's face twists up.

"That's not funny, Richie," Eddie is _scowling,_ and Richie knows he’s not going to be able to keep himself from crying, so he doesn’t even want to ask questions, he just wants to figure out how to get Eddie to leave now. "I obviously didn’t -didn’t mean _me_ ," Eddie continues, and wow, this is what hell must be from how Eddie describes it, because Richie is hot and nauseous and he's pretty sure his flesh is vaporizing off of his bones, based on how badly his whole body hurts.

Richie wants to say something so that Eddie doesn’t say anything else, but all his words are stuck to his tongue, and it feels so alien and heavy in his mouth that he's sure it’ll fall out if he tries to speak.

"I get it, you think it's funny to mess with me and stuff, and- and call me cute or whatever. But- But I was trying to be serious. Why do you have to make everything into a joke?" Eddie accuses. He sounds defensive, and Richie doesn’t fucking know why, because he still can’t wrap his fucking head around what is happening. He feels faint.

"Aw, shucks, I was hoping you’d let me touch your boobs, too," is what comes out of his mouth when it finally decides to operate, and Eddie's eyes narrow again.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"You weigh, like, 10 pounds; I'm definitely not calling you fat. If anything, you need to _gain_ some weight. You should ask your mom for some tips; she seems good at that." _Leave. Just leave. Please just leave._

Eddie sucks in a breath before standing on Richie’s bed, clenching his fists at his sides while he looks down on him with rage rolling off of him in tangible waves.

"You're a colossal dick," he grits out between clenched teeth, and Richie forces on a smirk, throwing a wink up at him.

"Sure have one. Gotta to please your mom; she’s a lot of lady. I'd show you too, but I think she's the jealous type."

Eddie is so red in the face that he looks purple, but Richie doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how mad Eddie is at him right now; he just wants him to fucking leave, so he can be alone.

"It's hard to tell where her boobs end and the rest of her begins, though. It all kinda melts together. I'm afraid I'll get lost in there sometimes."

"Fuck you," Eddie growls while stepping off of Richie’s bed and angrily gathering his things, before slamming his door shut so hard that one of the Polaroids of them that Richie has taped to his wall falls off.

He stares at it for a minute while trying to blink back the tears in his eyes, and he thinks it’ll help that it's a stupid fucking picture of them at Bill's house on his porch swing. Eddie is looking at him in disgust and shoving him away while Richie tries to stick his finger up Eddie's nose. It's always made him laugh. Right now it just makes everything so, so much worse, and he starts crying, finally. So he gives in and crawls under his covers, and holds his breath while the tears come, even though it hurts his throat every time he does.

He really wishes that Eddie hadn't slammed the fucking door like a dramatic bitch, because they yell at each other all the time, but the door slamming is definitely what must have tipped his mom off that something is wrong. And as soon as the door opens, he knows it's her.

"Sweetheart? Everything okay?" she asks, lying a gentle hand on Richie’s back over his blankets, and Richie immediately feels so fucking bad, because her voice is raspier than usual, so she was definitely napping, and they woke her up with their stupid yelling and Eddie slamming the stupid fucking door.

"Yes," Richie replies, but his voice breaks on the one syllable.

"Baby, what happened?"

Richie just shakes his head under his blanket, and she stays quiet for a moment, stroking his back through the layers of fabric. He holds in the sobs until his throat hurts so bad that he can't anymore, and he lets one of them go. Maggie moves his blankets off of his head to expose him for the pathetic, whining wreck he is. Because he went and got his own feelings hurt like a fucking idiot.

"Do you want me to go?" she asks softly, and Richie hesitates before shaking his head. He can barely see her through the mess of tears all over his glasses, but he can tell she’s frowning. She reaches down and takes his glasses off of his face and places them on his nightstand before she lies down next to him, pulling his head to her chest.

"I did something really stupid," Richie says all of a sudden, surprising even himself, because he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

"What's that?" She asks softly, brushing his hair from his forehead with her fingers, gently picking at the knots with her fingernails.

"I said some stuff to Eddie that I shouldn't have, and -and he's so mad at me," Richie sobs out, and Maggie hugs him closer, still petting through his hair.

"If you guys got into a fight, I'm sure he'll be willing to talk once you've both calmed down a bit. You both tend to take things a bit too far sometimes," Maggie offers gently, but Richie shakes his head, hiding his face in the fabric of her sweater.

"N-No, I- I-" but he can’t get anymore words out before he’s crying too hard. It isn’t necessary anyway, though, because Maggie seems to understand right away.

"Oh, sweetie. Honey, Eddie isn't... I'm sure he isn't trying to hurt your feelings. I'm sure he'll still want to be your friend after he calms down. He probably panicked, baby. You know how Sonia is with him."

"I didn't even- I didn't even get to tell him yet, and he just- he- I think he hates me."

"He does _not_ hate you, Rich. I promise you that he doesn’t hate you."

"He- it was like he -he was _disgusted_ ," Richie whispers, clutching onto the fabric of his mom's sweater so hard that his fingers ache. "He thinks I'm disgusting. I'm disgusting."

"Richie, listen to me," she says firmly, but she’s still petting so gently through his hair. "You are not disgusting. Eddie doesn’t think you're disgusting," she insists, but she didn’t see the look on Eddie's face. _I obviously didn’t mean me._

She sighs before continuing, and Richie can hear it rattle around in her chest. "Sweetheart, this…. this isn’t a conversation we should have to have. It's not a conversation I want to have with you, and it’s very unfair. But the reality is, there are… unfortunately, there are a lot of Sonia Kaspbraks and Butch Bowers and Father Waltons in the world. There are a whole lot of people who have so much hatred inside of themselves that they have to dump it onto others for something so benign and inconsequential to their own lives as who a person loves. And there are people like Eddie- who are sweet, kind, _compassionate_ people- that get confused and tangled up with that hatred because they don’t know any better, and it's all they've ever known. Eddie doesn’t know any better, Rich. But… that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to treat you badly."

"He doesn't! He doesn’t treat me bad. It was my fault. I shouldn't have said anything or brought it up. It was my fault.”

"It was not your fault, Richie," Maggie insists, squeezing him so hard that he can feel her muscles shake with the effort. "You remember when you had a crush on Liza Moore in third grade?"

"Yeah, and she gave me back the valentine I gave her and said she didn't like me back. Are we just recounting all of my romantic failures?" Richie grumbles, and Maggie sighs.

"What I'm getting at is... she didn't yell at you, or call you a bad person, or tell you you're sick or that there's something wrong with you. She just said 'sorry, I don’t feel the same way.' And that was it. With Eddie it isn’t that simple, baby. If he just said 'sorry, I don’t feel the same way,' then it would be okay, and you would have to be okay with that. But if him rejecting you comes with hatred and yelling and meanness… that is not okay."

"No, but...but he didn’t yell at me until I started making stupid jokes and stuff. He- I- it was my fault," Richie repeats, and Maggie takes a deep breath.

"Rich, what I'm trying to say is... Eddie has the deck stacked against him. And I know it hurts, and it's not fair, and it sucks _so_ much. But you have to look out for you, baby. If Eddie can't separate from all of the awful things his mother has taught him, you should _not_ torture yourself with it. You know I love Eddie so dearly, but you are my number one priority, Rich. And I don't want to see you hurt because Eddie believes what he believes."

"No, no, he just -He thought I was trying to mess with him or something, or- or- I don’t know. I don’t know," Richie desperately defends, his breath quickening. "Eddie wouldn't...he wouldn't."

"I don’t think he would either, baby. But this is a very tough situation, and I don’t want you getting hurt."

Too late. "He's- He's my best friend, mom. I can't just stop- stop being friends with him because I… because of _me_. I'm just gonna... gonna keep it to myself, okay? I'll never- I'll never bring it up with him again. And we'll just be friends, right?"

"Richie, sweetie, if you want to stay friends then you should. But you also have to be honest with yourself about how you feel. You can't just pretend and make these feelings go away," Maggie sounds pained, and Richie is worried he might be squeezing her too hard so he lets up his grip around her waist.

"I know that he- he isn't gonna like me back. And that's okay, because I know now, and I'll get over it, and it’ll be okay," Richie insists, but he starts crying again before he finishes talking. “And we can still be friends."

Maggie gives him a smile that Richie knows is sad, and it isn't comforting in the way that she likely intends for it to be.

"If you need to talk to me, you can always, _always_ talk to me Richie. No matter what it's about, no matter when."

"I know, mom. I love you."

"I love you too, bug."

"Please... please don’t tell dad. Or Piper, or anyone else, okay? Please? Please don’t tell anyone that I- that I'm like this."

"Sweetheart, your father and your sister would never be upset with you over this."

"I- I know. I just don’t feel ready, okay? So please?"

"Of course I won’t, Rich."

**Author's Note:**

> all i do is torture eddie. figured it was richie's turn for a change


End file.
